


Survive the Night

by KiwiKat_Writes



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Aftermath, Despair, Everyone (probably) Has Survivor's Guilt, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone is traumatized, Gen, Makoto Naegi's Execution, Makoto forgives his friends but Kyoko d o n t, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of a stabbing, S P O I L E R S, Spoilers, also bc I'm good at angst, despite how it may look there is no shipping in this fic, ding dong bing bong, i hurt Naegi bc he's never been targeted for murder and I find that slightly odd, wow that's a blanket tag right there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25461166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiKat_Writes/pseuds/KiwiKat_Writes
Summary: He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t let himself die. His head was going spotty and it was getting a little harder to breath, but he had to keep walking.Hope’s Peak Academy was the exact opposite of its name. Instead of hope, despair choked the halls, winding its way through people’s hearts and minds until it was the only thing someone could feel. And right now, his hope was a little… bleak.No. He can’t think like that! He has to… he has to…Shouting was coming from somewhere, but it sounded like he was below water. Where had the water come from?“MAKOTO? MAKOTO, WHERE ARE YOU?”
Relationships: Asahina Aoi & Naegi Makoto, Asahina Aoi & Ogami Sakura, Naegi Makoto & Ogami Sakura
Comments: 24
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

The world was starting to spin. Warmth dripped out from between his trembling fingers, teeth starting to ache from where they were clenched. His eyes squeezed shut, breath coming out in faint puffs of air. The arm against the wall keeping him upright shook.

They had come up from behind, clapping a hand over his eyes before he could see who it was. He had shouted in surprise, but it had quickly become a choked gasp of pain when he felt the sharp  _ thing _ roughly stabbed into his stomach. It was lower down, just under his belly button, but deep enough and low enough that moving  _ hurt _ .

He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t let himself die. His head was going spotty and it was getting a little harder to breath, but he had to keep walking.

Hope’s Peak Academy was the exact opposite of its name. Instead of hope, despair choked the halls, winding its way through people’s hearts and minds until it was the only thing someone could feel. And right now, his hope was a little… bleak.

No. He can’t think like that! He has to… he has to…

Shouting was coming from somewhere, but it sounded like he was below water. Where had the water come from?

“MAKOTO? MAKOTO, WHERE ARE YOU?” They were calling for him. Where were they? He blinked blearily, trying to find his bearings. His fingers spasmed against the wound, drawing a cry of pain from him. There was more shouting, something about a scream? Thunking on the floor, sounding like someone walking- no, running. Who was running?

He pried an eye open, looking ahead at the exact moment that someone rounded the corner. They were blurry, specifics completely lost on his brain. Tall, and behind them- someone a little shorter, both with darker skin.

Was he bleeding more? His gaze tracked down and he saw crimson staining his shirt, the colors switching oddly out. It flashed from crimson to a bright pink, making him blink blearily. Was blood supposed to do that?

“Makoto, oh my gosh, hang on!” Oh- he’d been picked up. Arms circled under his knees and his shoulders, supporting his weight. It felt good. Someone- a girl, was talking, sprinting next to whoever was carrying him. His eyes lolled up, watching the ceiling morph and twist. The lights were weird. Were they?

“Makoto, it’s gonna be okay. We’re not going to let you die, okay? There’s stuff in the nurse’s office, and I’m sure someone will know how to patch you up.” 

“I can. I’ve wrapped wounds before.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” He blinked again, shifting his gaze from the psychedelic ceiling to the girl next to him. She was familiar to him, a name floating in his fuzzy mind.

“H-H’na?” She gasped, before talking.

“Yeah, it’s Hina. You were stabbed, but it’s gonna be okay. The other 9 of us are in the dining hall, I’ll go ahead and… let them know. Sakura, get him straight to the nurse’s office.” Sakura… he knew Sakura. The tall, beefy girl with scars across her face and biceps. Was she here too? Where?

“I’m carrying you, Makoto.” She was here! That was cool. He blinked, sluggishly shifting his eyes to the hallway. 

There was a… teddy bear. No, not a teddy bear… Mokonuma? Yeah, Mokonuma. That was it. It was a weird teddy bear, half white and half black. Was it made like that on purpose? It looked weirdly threatening. A wide, sharp-toothed grin split his face on the black side, with a red spiky eye crowning it.

But as soon as he got a good look… the teddy bear vanished. Where? He wanted to see it again…

“Makoto, it might get loud in a second, okay? Try to stay calm.” Loud? Why? It seemed deathly quiet here, so why would it get loud?

Then Sakura (?) shouldered through a door, and there was a moment of silence. But after that…

The room exploded in noise. There was shouting, most of it his name. He looked at the people in the room through blurry eyes, blinking slowly. There was someone with white hair gasping, hand clasped over her mouth. A boy with red eyes and amazing eyebrows was yelling, trying to get attention.

But then they left the room, and the shouting muffled. Then-

“-oto! Makoto, wake up!” There was a hand shaking his shoulder, and his eyes opened.

When had they gotten to this room? He was on a bed, his jacket splayed out over the cover and ruined T-shirt pushed up to reveal the wound. He hissed as cold air met the warmth, a chill running through his body. 

“Sorry, Makoto, but this is gonna hurt, okay? Hina, I’ll hold him still. You have to disinfect the wound. Pour that onto a cloth and wipe it clean.”

“Got it, Sakura!” A sharp scent wafted through the air, sharpening his mind a bit, and then a deep inhale.

“Makoto, I’m so sorry, but this will help.” Then burning pain from his stomach, he was trying to curl up against arms holding his chest and legs down, there was screaming? Hina was apologizing over and over again, even while working the cloth rhythmically over the stab wound.

“Okay, it’s clean!” Almost instantly, a harsh but soft pressure covered the wound, soothing the stinging a little. He gasped for breath, but why did his throat hurt? 

Oh. He must have been screaming. That… that sucked. 

But then something was wrapping solidly around his abdomen, keeping the pressure on his wound, and the pain slowly ebbed. 

The thing was secured, firmly holding the pressure thing onto the stab. 

“That was efficient, Sakura.”   


“I’ve wrapped wounds before, this is just a deeper version of a paper cut.”

“Will he…”

“No. He was stabbed in the lateral lower quadrant of his stomach, which doesn’t really have much that’s vital in the way of living. Our biggest worry was him bleeding out, but now that the wound is covered it should heal okay. It might need stitches, however.”   


“Celeste? Where the heck did you come from?” 

“I was following you. Ever since Sayuka and Leon, I thought that it might be helpful to have someone. Considering that Sayuka was killed in the same way, it was a prudent thought.” 

“...I didn’t even think about that.” 

Whatever was said next was lost on Makoto, as his consciousness finally slipped away into darkness.

  
  
  


Makoto felt his eyes open, a blurry ceiling coming into focus above him. 

That wasn’t his dorm room ceiling. Where…?   


Like he was hit by lightning, he remembered. The hand over his eyes, the sharp thing digging into his stomach, being found by Sakura and Hina…

The door creaked open, brown hair coming into his view.

Chihiro stared at him from the door, soft eyes boring into his own.

“Y-you’re awake!” In a flash she was gone, leaving Makoto staring at nothing. He blinked in confusion, before looking at his surroundings. 

He was in… the nurse’s office? He tried to leverage himself up, but quickly yelped in pain at the stabbing pain radiating through his stomach at the movement. Hissing, his fists clenched in the blanket as he sat at a steady 45 degree angle. 

When the pain seemed a little better, he slowly pushed himself up the rest of the way. Looking down, he saw that he was still wearing his hoodie, but his shirt… His shirt was gone. Instead, there were bandages wrapping the length of his torso, covering his chest and stomach. 

It was at this point that it sank in. He had been attacked. Someone had tried to kill him.

His breathing picked up a bit as he processed this. He had been attacked with the intent to be killed. But how… what made him a threat? Was it that they thought he was an easy target? That he was weak?

But… no, that can’t be it. The group was rather positive about his inclusion by far. Of course, they could be lying. After all, Byakuya would sometimes look at him oddly, like he was deep in thought. 

Ever since the first trial, in fact.

So think, Makoto. Well, you’ve never been quite that smart, but try.

There was something that changed at the first trial, something that made people see him differently. Made them see him as valuable. And if he could find out what that was, then he could find out what behavior he had to watch out for. 

Okay, so what had changed from the course of the first day of… ‘school’... to the first trial? He had always been weak, always hiding behind the crowd, Talented and normal alike. He had no Talent. And people saw that. They called him meek and sweet, citing those as reasons he couldn’t have committed a murder. So… what was different? What made them defer to him when they had to investigate, or when they were uneasy? It didn’t make sense, at all. 

Why would it? He was the only one that was… useless. 

There was an Ultimate Swimming Pro, she was strong enough to fight assailants off! An Ultimate Detective, who could solve any problem given enough time. There was timid Toko, a Writing prodigy. She could fake notes, do whatever she had to with handwriting! Celeste was a gambler, for crying out loud! She could calculate the risks of a game and play perfectly, skillfully, without ever risking too much. And what could he do? 

He didn’t realize tears had blurred his vision until he snapped back to reality. Staring at the sheets, he slowly raised his hands and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, trying to staunch the flow of tears. 

“Makoto?” His head snapped up to see Asahina standing in the doorway of the nurse’s office, one hand lingering on the doorframe.

“H-Hina!” He roughly scrubbed at his eyes, trying to hold them back. He could cry later, when he was along.

“Oh, Koto…” He took just a second to question the nickname before he was being wrapped into a hug. Makoto went stiff, not expecting the hug. A hand softly pressed his face into the crook of her neck, making the world go dim. His eyes watered up again at the comforting hug, and his arms slowly hugged Hina back. 

The first tear slipped out against his will, the first sob choked back.

“Sh, sh… it’s okay, Koto.” The reassurances broke him.

  
  
  


Aoi let her own eyes close as Makoto’s grip tightened, the boy sobbing into her shoulder. She just shushed him softly, holding him just as tightly and threading a hand through silky desaturated brown hair. 

At some point in this, the door creaked open and Sakura peeked in.

She’d been especially vigilant around Makoto since they found him stumbling through the school hall, blood dripping out from fingers clasped over his stomach. Aoi wasn’t ashamed to admit that she’d screamed when she saw it. With the death of Sayaka still fresh in everyone’s minds, to see Makoto in that same state was… jarring.

Especially with his sharp mind, sharp wit in the trials. She wasn’t going to lie, if she didn’t know that Makoto was the Ultimate Lucky Student, the only one  _ without _ a Talent, she’d think that his Talent was Brains or something. He had needed a couple nudges, but he had effectively and surely found an airtight way to determine who the killer was. She meant, who else would have thought of the  _ glass ball _ as a way to trigger the incinerator? Who else would have been able to piece the piece of bloody clothing, the fact that the doorknob was mangled, the fact that someone had switched their nameplates, together? Who would have been able to think of the lack of hair, the missing sheets in the lint roller? Who else could completely shatter a seemingly airtight alibi with a single word, a single piece of evidence  _ everyone else _ overlooked?

Maybe she was just seeing something no one else was. 

“Is he… y’know, okay?” Hearing the ever-stoic Sakura stumble over her words honestly worried Aoi, but she just quietly held a finger, tangled in soft hair, up close to her lips. Sakura nodded, drawing a zipping motion over her lips.

“He’s okay, I think it all just… caught up to him right now. He found Sayaka, and he was the main reason we started suspecting Leon… he probably feels terrible about that. I think he just needed a cry.” She whispered across the room, and Sakura nodded again.

“Makes sense, I’ll tell everyone that he needs space right now.” Aoi nodded and watched as she left, before glancing down at the boy clinging tightly to her, as if he was lost and she was a map.

They’d have to talk. She’d have to find a safe way to breach the fact that Makoto’s been out for three days, and the fact that all they found suspicious was an elegant pair of scissors covered in a suspicious rusty sheen. Toko had seemed oddly terrified of the scissors, why she didn’t know. She’d have to talk to Makoto about the trial, and the deaths. 

But for now, she gently rocked him back and forth as he sobbed into her shoulder, whispering calm, sweet nothings as one hand worked through his hair.

In this peace, they could almost imagine that nothing had happened. That they weren’t stuck in what used to be Hope’s Peak Academy, that two people had died, one in front of their very eyes. That the terrifying Monokumo wasn’t watching their every move. 

But for now, she comforted him. And the terrors of Hope’s Peak faded into the background, dark shadows now simple dim spots.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost instantly, Makoto’s wide eyes blossomed with hurt as he looked around the room, his breathing picking up.
> 
> Despair.
> 
> Then that oh-so-hated red button appeared, and Monokuma slammed it with an eerie chuckle. Makoto was instantly alienated, seated in a desk with his face facing the voters. His eyes flickered over them one last time, and he mustered a weak smile.
> 
> At that, Aoi felt a sob burst out of her, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight. Everyone seemed equally shocked. That smile wasn’t like Celeste’s had been. Hers was serene, a porcelain mask. This one was raw, hurting, but he still made the effort to comfort them all, before his inevitable, bloody death. A flash of wrongness bolted through her system, but she couldn’t protest. Couldn’t blink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SPOILERS FOR THE GAME. PLEASE DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THROUGH THE 5th CHAPTER OF THE GAME

Aoi was numb. All she could think about right now was Makoto.

Yeah, that sounded weird. Let me rehash that.

This trial was over, and… she could feel a lump in the pit of her stomach. That night in the nurse’s office seemed like it was years ago, the night nothing existed outside of her and him. 

There had been several murders in between. And through it all, Makoto had been saving their butts. When Chihiro died, he had carried them all through the mess that it was, through realizing that Genocide Jack wasn’t the murderer, and then honing in on Mondo’s argument. She hadn’t even caught that Mondo said that he didn’t own a blue tracksuit, but Makoto had. Sweet, shy Makoto, a quiet withdrawn person normally, but as soon as they entered the trial room a hard edge entered his hazel eyes. He shot Mondo’s argument to pieces in what seemed like no time at all, and Aoi had been impressed. 

She could see that everyone else was starting to get it. People would defer to Makoto during the evidence gathering stage, letting him pass with a ‘hey’ and friendly wave where others were met with a suspicious gaze. And he took that positive energy into the trial room, where he presented his evidence and ultimately solved the case. Aoi wasn’t sure if anyone else saw it, but Kyoko was starting to help him less with each case. She would point out something that seemed obvious in hindsight, and Makoto would take that stencil and draw an exquisite portrait of just ‘whodunnit’. 

And then in the Hifumi/Taka case, he had been the only one that had seen through Celeste’s firm facade. He had honed in on  _ one word _ that she said, and it was like that thing where a snowball keeps rolling and eventually becomes a snowman, or a lump of snow large enough to pass as an avalanche. Celeste made firm, strong arguments that made everyone believe she couldn’t possibly be guilty, and he would smash them into pieces and suddenly she could see just what Celeste had been hiding. 

Aoi had to admit, she was worried about Makoto. Ever since he broke down in the nurse’s office, so much more pressure had been added to his shoulders. Even with his proficiency in the trial room, she could tell that he was blaming himself for the murderers’ deaths, every time. She wondered if he felt, every time, what she felt when Sakura died. And the note… 

She had to admit that she’d read the note, and seen red. She had been fully convinced that Toko had killed Sakura, killed her best friend. She had… she had wanted to make sure that who she thought was guilty was convicted, by switching the poison with the protein shake. Like they say, hindsight is 20/20. Only during the trial had she realized her mistake, had gone pale as she remembered that if Toko was convicted, they all die. The anger cooled down, replaced by white-hot grief burning her insides. 

But… Makoto had put it together.

She didn’t know if she would have confronted her mistake had anyone not put it together.

Now, though… it was different.

This latest case, the masked person’s death… something had been wrong. Ever since they started the trial, something had felt off, like thousands of eyes were watching this. It was odd. And then it had started.

Yasuhiro had accused Makoto. And it all fell apart.

Makoto had started defending himself, but it seemed weaker than when he would defend others in the circle. People debated and debated, and through it all Makoto was slammed with accusation against accusation. And… Aoi was ashamed to admit she had flung several of those. At the very end, Makoto looked as if he had to make a decision. Hazel eyes filled with pain, conflict, stared at Kyoko’s own violet eyes. Then…

Acceptance flooded them, and he… gave up. 

Monokuma called for votes, and something in the bear’s tone was slightly more sadistic than it should have been. She had toggled the lever, staring at the person she would be condemning.

_ ‘I’m… I’m so sorry…” _

She closed her eyes and slammed the ‘Vote’ button, instantly clenching her fists. SHe kept them closed through the ringing of the roulette machine, and Monokuma’s declaration that Makoto was the one to be executed.

Almost instantly, Makoto’s wide eyes blossomed with hurt as he looked around the room, his breathing picking up.

Despair.

Then that oh-so-hated red button appeared, and Monokuma slammed it with an eerie chuckle. Makoto was instantly alienated, seated in a desk with his face facing the voters. His eyes flickered over them one last time, and he mustered a weak smile.

At that, Aoi felt a sob burst out of her, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight. Everyone seemed equally shocked. That smile wasn’t like Celeste’s had been. Hers was serene, a porcelain mask. This one was raw, hurting, but he still made the effort to comfort them all, before his inevitable, bloody death. A flash of  _ wrongness _ bolted through her system, but she couldn’t protest. Couldn’t blink.

Something was off. In all the other trials, Monokuma allowed some time for the blackened to protest, try to make people understand why they committed murder. 

He didn’t allow any time with Makoto. 

The feeling of wrongness grew stronger.

They had made a mistake somewhere. Where?

A huge rectangular crusher was behind Makoto, pounding down every few seconds. A blackboard popped up in front of him, and his smiling face was the last they saw of Makoto. 

The crusher pounded away as Makoto slowly approached it, and Aoi could barely breathe-

It hesitated at the top for just two seconds, just enough so that Makoto was right there-

Something started creaking, and something tilted-

The crusher smashed down, destroying the blackboard. Aoi couldn’t remember when she’d started screaming, but she was now. Her hand stretched out, as if to stop time. 

The crusher slowly creaked up, showing a mess of smashed wood. 

Somewhere under that was Makoto’s crushed body.

Monokuma popped into existence, cackling like mad. 

“Upupupupupupupu, a delightful execution! I just have one thing to say, for you sorry saps to think over as you take that in!” He flung an envelope at Aoi’s feet, and she barely registered leaning down and picking it up. Then they were all trekking out of the execution room, numbly making their way through the halls. The letter was clenched in her hand, crinkling slightly at the pressure. She collapsed into a chair in the dining hall, feeling emotions start to brew in her stomach. 

“-oi. Aoi…” She jerked back to attention, staring at Hiro. He gestured at the letter, normal happy expression grave. She slowly looked down, ripping the top open with trembling fingers.

Unfolding the paper inside, she swallowed and read it aloud. Her voice cracked, testament to the storm of emotions that reading it sent ripping through her.

**_Makoto Naegi was innocent_ **

innocent

_ innocent _

**_innocent_ **

The paper drifted out of her hands as she stared forward. Through the ringing in her ears, she watched people’s faces change.

Kyoka’s face twisted sharply as she turned aside, a hand reaching up and covering her eyes. Yasuhiro’s face went blank, and he let out a shaky sigh before leaning down and hiding his face in his hands. Byakuya looked neutral, but a flash of something entered his eyes before he shifted so they reflected the light, blocking them from view. Toko was sobbing, tugging at her hair and glasses speckled with tears. Aoi was…

Aoi was numb. 

Makoto was innocent. He hadn’t killed. 

And he’d been murdered in cold blood. 

Kyoko turned and walked briskly away, heading to… somewhere. Aoi couldn’t tell where, and couldn’t particularly care right now. Her mind was filled with Makoto.

His soft hazel eyes, offering comfort when someone was killed and hardening when needed. The way he filled with confidence during trials, the way he always found the culprit.

Always.

The way he would shout across the room, shooting verbal bullets straight through alibis and excuses. The way his short stature would almost overpower the room.

For goodness sake, he was 5’3. Sure, she was only 5’4, but he always seemed so much smaller than an inch shorter. 

Now those eyes would never light up in anticipation again. Never again would he hurl verbal rocks across the trial floor, never again would he offer comfort and small gifts to those around him.

Never again… 

If this is Despair, it’s pretty much won. Without the Lucky student…

What Hope did they have?

  
  
  


Makoto screamed on the way down.

He had to admit, he thought he was a goner. The desk was traveling backwards, to a crusher. Monokuma was teaching… something… and he couldn’t stop the bright flush of embarrassment that flooded to his face. He had glanced back, instinctively holding his breath. Squeezing his eyes shut, he awaited execution with bated breath.

It didn’t come. 

His eyes opened and flicked upwards, seeing the crusher suspended in midair. But then he had tipped backwards, the crusher had pounded down and crushed the blackboard, and now he was falling. And he was screaming. 

A faint smell wafted up to him, rank and disgusting. He wrinkled his nose, trying to place it, before the trip ended.

He just got a glimpse of towering heaps of something and a blast of that scent before something connected with his back and the world went black.

  
  
  


It had been a rough night.

One night since it happened.

Aoi dragged herself through her morning routine, mind not quite in it. Her hair was messier than normal, and her clothes were rumpled. She didn’t bother to wipe the tear tracks off of her cheeks. No one would judge her. 

She left the room and was instantly met with Yasuhiro. His eyes were red and puffy, and he nodded weakly at her. She couldn’t scrounge a smile up, but nodded back. 

“Kyoko left after she ate breakfast. We’re not quite sure where she is.” She nodded again, slogging through daily motions she would normally bounce through. Everything felt numb. 

Aoi had to be honest, even eating was slightly soured for her. She trekked to the dining room and started preparing lunch, then her hands had stilled. Makoto had skipped both lunch and dinner before the trial, citing nervousness as his lack of appetite. 

She didn’t eat much that day.

Kyoko returned, just before dinner. Her eyes were red, but she looked rather satisfied with herself. Aoi got no explanation before she disappeared into her dorm. She didn’t know if she wanted an explanation. 

  
  


Makoto didn’t know how long it had been since he’d fallen into the dump. He really regretted skipping both lunch and dinner now. He was thirsty, aching, he was 99% sure that the stab wound had opened a bit at the pulsating ache in his side, and he just wanted to see his friends again.

Friends. Were they still alive? He couldn’t know. He wondered if the crusher had just been for show, and this was his real execution. Dying alone in the garbage. It wouldn’t surprise him, considering how he had no Talent. A rusty spoon among the silver cutlery.

He just prayed that they made it out. Hina, Kyoka, Yasuhiro- heck, even Byakuya and Toko. If anyone could live through this, it was them. They had something to leave to, a Talent to return to! What did he have? 

No. Don’t think like that, Makoto! You’ll be fine. You have to stay positive, it’s what you’re best at. 

Even if no one was around for him to help. 

Without thinking, Makoto smacked himself in the face. Hissing in pain, he rubbed at the red mark before deciding. He pulled a rough, holey blanket over him on a mattress with no padding, before pillowing his head with his arm. 

He had to rest. With no food and no water, he needed all the sleep he could to keep strength up. 

  
  


Night two, day three, since it happened. 

Aoi had slept about 2 hours total.

Kyoko kept disappearing. She came out of her room that morning with a roughly cobbled-together bag, looking like it was sewn in the dark.

It most likely was. 

She went into the kitchen and, glancing around like she was doing something illegal, she scooped bread and bottled water into it. Aoi just blinked at her, not having the emotional energy to confront her right now.

They were all going to die anyways. 

  
  


Kyoko had to be honest, she presented a strong, unflappable front to Hina and Hiro. But if she was being completely honest, she was still kicking herself for her own involvement in this. 

She had apologized to Makoto, quietly, before his execution and…

He said ‘it’s okay’. He truly, only, thought the only way to save the rest was for him to die. 

Kyoko had thought it was, until she watched him ‘die’. She had been to the side, and she could see his face. How when the blackboard popped up, the smile was ripped off his face and was replaced with deep, primal fear. How he flushed pink at whatever Monokuma had written on the board, how the blush drained from his face as he glanced behind him. How he squeezed his eyes shut, and at that she had to avert her eyes somewhere. Everyone else was focused on Makoto, and she was the only one that saw Monokuma’s face glitch out, replaced by Alter Ego.

He halted the machine, and she saw Makoto’s eyes shoot open, looking above him. Then he tilted backwards, and the crusher slammed down and destroyed the blackboard and chair.

Hina was screaming, and Hiro was staunchly trying not to burst out in tears. Byakuya looked apathetic as ever, but she could tell he was rattled by the happenings. Toko was tugging at her hair, staining her glasses with tears. 

Kyoko stood there, struggling to keep her stoic mask covering her real emotions. Everything was fuzzy, all her focus on the execution room. Monokuma said something, and then they were all trekking through the halls. Hina collapsed into a chair in the dining room, Hiro braced himself on a table, Byakuya and Toko stood. 

**_Makoto Naegi was innocent_ **

…

Of course he was. She had asked him to take the fall, asked him to make sure she survived. He did. He was so kind, so devoted to escaping, that he was willing to never escape so she could help the rest escape. He was a second and an inch away from dying in Hope’s Peak, never again seeing the sky, the city. He was a second and an inch away from never seeing his family again.

She was the only one that knew of his survival. So she had to prepare.

It was harder to be motivated when you’re feeling grief, she realized. He may not have died, but the throbbing in her chest told her she was grieving for him. Every stitch took longer than it should, every pin holding it together dragging on the fabric. She was only made aware of its dragging on by the time it was night, and the bag was only half complete. 

...A good amount of that time was extricating the stitches from her gloves. In her defense, sewing was harder than it looked.

Finally, on the second night, she was done. But at that point, she couldn’t go because it was nighttime, and Monokuma would probably have killed her on the spot if he saw her being suspicious during the night. At least during the day, there was other stuff to focus on.

On the third day, she was ready. Grabbing the two buns and the bottle of water, she took a deep breath.

Makoto saved her life. It’s her turn to save his. 

  
  


Makoto didn’t know how long he’d been alone in the garbage. He’d gotten used to the stench by now, but even if he hadn’t his growling stomach would be more than enough to distract him. He had had a nightmare, woken up screaming, and spent the better part of the day (?) panicking, so that was fun. 

Basically, right now his head hurt, the scar hurt, he was thirsty, tired, and hungry.    
If this was the execution, Monokuma was doing an amazing job at it. 

Although… maybe he didn’t know. Monokuma bots have been traipsing through the room at random, forcing him to stay covered in fear of what would happen. Would he do that if he knew Makoto was down here?

Some garbage shifted.

Almost instantly, Makoto snapped to attention. That was new. And unless it was a Monokuma, it would either help or harm him.

With barely any strength left, he grabbed the blanket and drew it around him, leaving just his eyes poking out. He didn’t want to risk his chances.

“Ugh, stupid trash…” 

_ Kyoko? _

“...Makoto? Are you down here?” 

Her gaze tracked the room, finally falling on his own barely-visible eyes. They widened just briefly, before her expression fell back to its normal neutral.

She pulled a bag out of nowhere and Makoto flinched on instinct, instantly hating himself for the reaction. She wasn’t Monokumo, she wouldn’t hurt him!

She paused, before slowly crouching to the floor. Reaching into the bag, she pulled something out. The fresh scent almost instantly drew his attention, and his eyes tracked to her hand.

Sourdough buns. One of his favorite foods.

Kyoko pulled something else out of the bag, a bottle of water. He swallowed automatically, the dryness in his throat even more pronounced now that he was faced with water. Another sourdough bun was revealed before she placed them on the bag, stretching the straps out so he could grab it and drag it closer to himself. Then she backed up, to a point she was far enough away they had no chance of touching.

“Go ahead and eat, Makoto. You need to get nutrients.” Makoto just stared, before slowly unwrapping his arm from the blanket. He reached forward and grabbed the strap of the bag, slowly dragging it closer to himself. Kyoko averted her eyes, the simple motion easing his mind. Grabbing a bun, he hesitantly cracked it open. It was still warm, somehow. The fresh scent of sourdough was a pleasant reprieve from the garbage, and Makoto ripped a piece off and popped it into his mouth.

Oh. 

_ Oh. _

Almost before he could stop himself, he was using his teeth to rip into the loaf. It was the best thing he’d ever tasted, although that could be the hunger talking. After he demolished the loaf, he unscrewed the cap and took a couple deep gulps. The cool water felt wonderfully refreshing against his throat, and he slowly realized he should have drunk water before eating anything. 

It took all of his strength to stop drinking, but he knew that he should save the rest for after the second bun. 

He picked it up and started eating it, although at a much slower pace than before. Kyoko didn’t budge from her spot until he was finished, and drinking some water.

“Makoto.” He looked up, and saw her shifting to stand. 

“Can you stand? We have to get out of here.” Makoto slowly put the water down, before unwrapping himself. A glimmer of something appeared in Kyoko’s eyes at his rather disheveled appearance, but she ignored it. He took a stand, stepping once, before pitching forward. With a yelp, he connected with something warm.

Kyoko was holding him up. 

Almost against his will, his eyes pricked with tears at contact. It was comforting and too much all at once.

“H-how long have I been…”

“You’ve been down here for about three days.” 

Wow.

Three days?

That seemed wrong. Sure, he had no clocks, but… 

“Woah…”

“Yeah.” She gently pushed him up so he was standing, and he took just a moment to go through the 5 stages of grief at the loss of contact before his arm was looped over her shoulder.

It felt nice.

“Okay, when you get steady again, we have to move. We gotta get out of here, Makoto.” He nodded, slowly taking a step. His leg didn’t feel like it was going to collapse again, and he took another.

His legs had warmed up, he could walk!

“Okay, now that you can move, I need to get you out of here. See the door?” He nodded.

“I have the key.” He allowed himself a moment of shock for that, before it transformed into… Hope.

So they trekked up steps and unlocked a door, and then started climbing.

At least they talked. And Makoto learned that this whole thing was televised, and that a whole nation full of Despair was trying to cling to Hope.

  
  
  


There was something in Aoi’s stomach. A brewing emotion, one she hadn’t felt in three days.

…

It seemed she still had some hope after all.

  
  


Makoto breathed in, and out. They were walking down the hall to the dining hall, and his hands were trembling.

He was scared.

Why was he scared? 

His shoes scuffed the floor as he turned the corner, eyes gazing into the dining hall.

Hina was sitting there, and she lethargically turned her head when she heard him walk in. Her eyes… Her eyes looked dead, emotionless and filled with Despair.

But then…

A spark.

She shot straight upright, sending her chair clattering to the floor with a racket. Her hands drifted up to cover her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes. Yasuhiro barged into the room from the other side, before freezing as well. Makoto glanced away, took another deep breath, before turning back and smiling.

“H-hi, guys.”

All of a sudden, a sob burst out of Hina, and Makoto braced himself for impact, but-

She cowered away, tears rolling down her cheeks.

What?

“M-makoto, we- we sent you to your  _ death _ … h-how… how are you not mad at us?” Makoto blinked, shifting his gaze to Yasuhiro. The tall man averted his eyes, sniffling once.

“It’s okay.” Hina’s head shot up, and Yasuhiro stiffened.

Makoto tilted his head, ignoring Kyoko’s small query of ‘what…?’.

“It’s not your guys’ faults.” He smiled, trying to make them see the truth. 

Hina blinked, tears still spilling over her eyelids.

And-

There was the impact.

The force of her hug sent them both toppling to the ground, getting a small ‘oof’ out of him. Still, he hugged her back. She sobbed into the hood of his hoodie, and he patted her back.

“Let me in on this, dudes!” Then he was hoisted up into the air, and almost instinctively he stiffened, mind flashing back to when he was frozen in place in the trial room, on the desk, awaiting almost certain death-

He wasn’t in his own body. Everything felt numb, detached, like what he felt when he was falling. There was a faint pounding of fear, but it was barely there. He would be irritated by it, if he could feel anything. There were voices…

He’d have to go further out to hear.

Makoto felt himself drift further, any emotion quickly dissipating.

“-at’s wrong with him?”

“I… I don’t know!”   


“Makoto? Makoto!” 

“Guys, stop shaking him! You’re going to make it worse!”   


“He’s not responding!”

“It looks like he’s dissociating… see how his eyes are blurry?”

“O-oh… did we-”   


“Most likely, yes. When I found him and moved too quickly he flinched. He’s scared.” 

“...oh.”

“Can we… help him un-dissociate?”

“Get something frozen.” He drifted closer to the noise, the faintest hint of intrigue playing through him.

Then there was a cold shock shooting through his system, and Makoto was gasping for air and dropping an ice cube. He blinked rapidly, feeling something in the world slot back into place. 

“You back with us?” He just nodded, and his breathing slowed down a bit. Hina’s face popped into view, her hands twisting nervously in her shirt.

“S-sorry…” He sighed, not getting why Hina wasn’t getting it.

“Hina, it’s not your fault. It’s okay.” Kyoko sharply exhaled from behind him, the sound choked off and sounding almost- amused? Hina just looked him in the eye, before slowly nodding.

“Okay- okay. Okay, we’re chill?” 

“We-well, yeah, of course!” 

  
  


Makoto smiled again and Aoi felt her heart stop.

He had been sent to execution from them, even if it was botched. He was thrown down a garbage shaft leading to the deepest bowels of the school, with no food or water to keep his strength up. He had been alone for three days with only trash and (presumably) Monokuma for company, and…

He was innocent.

Makoto glanced down at himself, as if just seeing his own appearance.

“Woah- I’m sorry, I must stink! Uh- I’ll go shower!” Before she could inject and forcefully reassure him that they Did Not Care, he was gone. She stared after his back, feeling the world grind back into motion. Kyoko huffed again, drawing their attention.

“Listen, Aoi, Hagakure.” Aoi turned to look at her, still feeling slightly shell-shocked. 

“Makoto’s been framed by his best friend. He’s been stabbed and almost died. He’s the leading force in our trials, and if I’m honest, he’s one of the reasons we aren’t all dead right now. He was sent to his death by his  _ other _ friends, and only didn’t die because Alter Ego intervened in the execution and stopped the crusher those few seconds it took. He fell down a garbage chute that was probably longer than our trials can take, and he lived to tell the tale.” Her face lost any emotion, and Aoi felt a chill shoot through her.

“And he’s forgiven you. No questions asked, no hard feelings. You sent him to his death. And he’s forgiven you, but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.” Aoi ducked her head. She’d expected Kyoko to give them this talk eventually, but she hadn’t gauged how much it would hurt. 

“What I’m saying is  _ fix it _ . Don’t do this another time. The execution won’t be botched a second time.” Aoi shivered at the intensity in her voice, and Hiro nodded vigorously. 

Makoto would not be sent to his death again.

She would make sure of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who binged Danganronpa  
> haha i have lost control of my life-  
> I hope yall enjoyed this!

**Author's Note:**

> my first Danganronpa fanfiction! Please no spoilers in the comments, I just got past Celeste's execution so please don't say anything beyond that-  
> Anyways, I hope that you guys enjoyed this! It's always a fun challenge to write for people you haven't before, so I hope everyone seems on-character!  
> See yall later, you beautiful kiwis!


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